A simple answer when I wonder, “Does my life really matter?”

By Mark A. Taylor

Have you ever wondered about all the faithful followers of God whose names did not make it into the Bible?

To be sure, in his Word, God has told us about many men and women whose faithful obedience changed the world. We remember and teach about these Bible heroes. We tell our children about them, and children sing about them in Sunday school. We’re grateful for their example.

But despite the long list of familiar names, so many in the parade of God’s people through the ages were never named. Everyday believers, doing their jobs and loving their families, making mistakes and finding forgiveness, sharing their faith and bringing some skeptics to faith as well—surely such folks have filled the ranks of the growing family of God through the centuries. But most, almost all, of them we don’t know.

In our own everyday lives, a few influencers have emerged to show us how to live for God. We might call a couple of them our heroes, even if few others saw them that way. But they, along with most of those in the multiplied generations of believers before us, will be unknown to the generations to come. And in a hundred years, no one likely will be saying our names, either.

In a hundred years, likely no one will be saying my name.

Such a thought need not be depressing. But it’s OK to be sobered by it. One way to cope with the probability that someday I’ll be forgotten is to evaluate how much I care about being known today.

Sometimes I wonder how willing I am to serve unseen. Are my efforts important if no one remembers? Does my service honor God even if the one(s) I’m serving don’t realize I’m helping them?

What some have said

Comments from a couple of contemporary bloggers suggest such pondering is not off-target.

• Church leadership guru Carey Nieuwhof wrote recently about the repeated questions he gets from young preachers who want to know how to get noticed for the work they’re doing, why their social media platform isn’t growing faster, and when someone is “going to finally acknowledge me and put me in the spotlight.”

Although his response is aimed at leaders in their 20s or 30s (Just lead. Do the work. Tell a story worth repeating, and maybe someone someday will decide to share it.), his words translate to advice for any of us: Take your focus off yourself and your audience, and just serve. 

• Writer and editor Samuel D. James, like Nieuwhof, is circumspect about the power or potential of social media. He claims that blogging by itself is not going to make you famous. The internet has become too full for any one voice to stand out, he says, unless you’re a “social media leech who will say or do anything for clicks.” He believes blogging remains a good opportunity, but mainly for those who will write thoughtfully about a narrow subject, meeting needs in a particular niche. Again, the take-away here is service, not self-promotion.

Answering my question

These writers affirm the conclusion I’ve reached about all of this. The answer to my “does it matter” questions is just this: Even simple, sometimes secret service is important.

I may not tell anyone how long I spent at a hospital bedside, how many emails of encouragement I sent, how often I’ve prayed for someone facing a struggle, how regularly I turn off the light for someone who usually forgets it. The kind response to a harried clerk, the effort to follow-up with a neighbor about a problem she shared, the unexpected gift I send to cheer a burdened friend, the quiet listening to a co-worker who tells me the same problems week after week after week—none of these simple acts of service will be recorded, and most will not be recognized. But I believe each one is important to Jesus.

Sometimes it’s not what I do, but what I say—or refuse to say—that makes a difference. Perhaps my friend won’t know if I describe her kindly to someone else. But I serve her and the person who hears me by helping strengthen their relationship.

Almost certainly no one will realize I refused to share some juicy gossip or spout off my “just criticism” about my preacher or my boss. But I serve everyone involved by holding my tongue.

Defining “the least”

Jesus said we’re actually serving him when we meet the needs of “the least of these.” It’s good that we read this and think about the examples he mentions:  the prisoner, the hungry, or the homeless.  But I’ve decided the standard Jesus was setting applies more broadly, to ordinary, sometimes tedious or even irritating situations in anyone’s life.

Changing a diaper or taking a shut-in to the doctor or doing the dishes even when it’s not “my turn” likely won’t qualify me for hero status. But such actions will allow me to imitate the Lord of the universe who told his disciples to go wash others’ feet just as he had washed theirs. This Jesus God, the co-creator of the universe said he came “not to be served but to serve.”

If I’ll remember that example as I interact with the world around me, I’ll have little energy left to worry about my “platform.” If I want to make a difference, there are plenty of opportunities, and almost all of them exist far outside the spotlight.

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Photo sby Ahmed Hasan and Scott Umstattd on Unsplash